Sacrificial Wonder
by Ly Merrick
Summary: A multiple chapter story in which Cordelia is reeling after Misty's disappearance. She has lost too many of her girls already, and Misty is by far the one she holds dearest. She must blind herself in a powerful effort to find the free-spirited witch. What comes after doesn't matter – only that Misty lives.
1. separation

**Pairing:** Cordelia/Misty  
><strong>Synopsis:<strong> Cordelia is reeling after Misty's disappearance. She has lost too many of her girls already, and Misty is by far the one she holds dearest. She must blind herself in a powerful effort to find the free-spirited witch. What comes after doesn't matter – only that Misty lives.  
><strong>AN:** Based on a prompt in which I was asked to write about what happened during Misty's disappearance. I've taken liberties after that point. :) I changed a few things, a few details, to make the story work better.

###

**separation**

"**Blood fills my mouth. Fire sears my veins. I choke back a howl. The silver knife slips-the**

**choice is mine." – Bree Despain, **_**The Dark Divine**_

Trembling hands. It was a bone-deep fear as she reached for the miniature shears, thinking that this was absolutely _crazy, _ridiculous. Myrtle had done who-knows-what in order to restore her sight, and here she was, shaking from head to toe, near sobbing, contemplating the sacrifice of that gift. The scales weighed heavily in either direction; use her gift of Sight to guide the Coven, guide her girls, or retain her eyesight in the hopes that she would find a deeper power within herself she was able to use for their benefit.

One option left her dependent on another human being to live a normal daily life, at least to some extent. The other left her fully in control of her surroundings. Her fingers grazed the heavy metal handle of the shears and took a steadying breath.

The Coven needed Misty. Cordelia needed Misty's warmth, her light, to survive all the darkness that lay ahead of them if a new Supreme failed to emerge. In reality, there was only one choice. Her white-knuckled grip solidified her decision. She steeled herself, cringing already in anticipation, shivering in mortal fear that this thing she was about to do may possibly end her own life. There were important vessels just behind the eye, ones that could cause her to bleed out.

She prayed to every sentient intelligence that may or may not exist that she was not condemning herself to die.

The most difficult part was watching was the blade approached her eye. She didn't know if she could do this, but she dug deep for true resolve and used a second hand to still her trembling grip. A deep breath and then –

Pain. Unbelievable pain. She was not sure if she had cried out, but she was certain behind the ringing of her ears and the sudden blackness in her right eye that she was screaming, a deep, primal sound of pain tearing from her throat. Before she could hesitate, she lined the shears up to her left eye – she had to do this.

Cordelia plunged the shears inward, terror gripping her as she suffered her last moment of sight; there was no horror like destroying such a mortally important sense. Her hands trembling beyond control, the shears clattered to the table and she collapsed forward, still crying out, her lids blinking as if they could heal the wound. The salt of tears burned, seared, and she was thrown into a vision of white – pain, pure pain. The more her eyes instinctively fluttered, the more it hurt. She stumbled, almost fell backward against the table. A pot clattered, shattered near her feet as she sobbed in shock.

She tore cloth from her skirt, roughly, and shakingly pressed it to her wounded eyes. How like Oedipus she must have looked, the Grecian fool who had blinded himself to bear the weight of his shame. Cordelia cried, felt her knees going weak.

Somewhere within her gut she found the ability to yell for help. Myrtle's name tore from her throat just before her consciousness winked away, body slumping to the floor.

###

She awoke to blackness and the feeling of nausea sweeping over her. She reached into darkness, grabbed at air, fearfully calling out. Cordelia knew she was in bed, knew that she was safe and alive; she set her mind to the next task, despite the throbbing pain.

"Myrtle."

"Sweet daughter," the familiar voice crooned and a soft, gloved hand was enveloping her own, another touching her face. "What have you done?"

"Misty – she's missing. She's gone. I have to find her. I need to trigger a vision –" she sat up but immediately covered her mouth, feeling bile rise in her throat.

Myrtle _tsk, tsked _somewhere beside Cordelia. "You are merely hours recovered from your self-mutilation. Your very skin was grey by the time myself and Queenie found you."

Cordelia shook her head. "It means nothing," she determined quietly, shifting very slowly and standing up shakily, reaching out a palm and finding her old walking-stick placed firmly therein. "I have work to do. I cannot lose another one of my girls, Auntie Myrtle."

Certain of the bandages on her eyes, she could smell the healing poultice placed on her wounds. First on her list was the only person malicious enough to eliminate another member of the Coven. Fiona was all but missing herself, but more likely she had taken off on a jaunt. It was Madison she had to find; the girl was poisonous, spoiled, an over privileged brat who stifled emotion with cruelty.

Cordelia felt for the cold metal of the door, nudged it open with her walking stick and used her memory to navigate, the _clap, clap _of her stick the only sound. It must have been late, because the house was deathly quiet and somewhere there were subtle whispers between Kyle and Zoe.

Music guided her most clearly to where Madison was. She entered without knocking, demanding what she needed from the girl, a sharp bite to her tone. "Where is Misty?"

"Probably rubbing up on a plant in your greenhouse," the familiar voice was near-enough, but when Cordelia reached there was a quick, undefinable sound and suddenly Madison's voice was further away. "Did I say you could touch me?"

"What have you got to hide?" Cordelia searched the air, pivoted on her feet and moved across the room. Again, Madison's voice came from a different direction.

"I can hide anything I want from you," the undeniable amusement infuriated Cordelia. "You've gone and blinded yourself," Madison made various noises, red herrings to lead Cordelia astray and keep herself out of arm's length. "You wouldn't look for any of _us, _wouldn't gouge out your eyes for us. Just Misty," the strain of jealousy was subtle enough to confuse Cordelia.

She thought she felt air brush past her arm.

"Catch me if you can, otherwise – too bad," Madison sneered just near Cordelia's shoulder, but there was no chance to make contact because that brief sucking sound passed through the air and the bedroom door slammed shut.

Frustrated, angry, Cordelia waited only a moment before hurriedly making her way to Misty's old room, opening the door and barely needing to _think _about where she was going. It smelled like sage, lavender, smelled like warm earth. Misty's warmth remained though she was missing. It made Cordelia's lungs tighten momentarily in her chest and she had to stop, a hand darting out nearby and colliding with Misty's dresser.

It wasn't hard, after she gathered herself together, to find a shawl; they had been draped everywhere, and even blind Cordelia knew they still would be. The scent overwhelmed her memory and emotion gripped her senses; she would not see Misty's face again, nor her smile, even if she did manage to find where the Cajun was and figure out a way to bring her back. Still, she left with precious few of Misty's things, hoping to trigger a vision.

##

When the vision did come, Cordelia felt desperation overtake every nerve ending. She wanted Misty to _know _that she was coming to find her, she was coming to bring her back. She wanted Misty to know she had not given up on her. At least in some part, Misty had someone who understood and reciprocated her desire to belong. And she thought of all the things she had not said: Misty made everything okay. All it had taken was the sight of Misty to make her days better, even when she had been most depressed – at the point in time which she had no magical ability to speak of outside of alchemy.

Sight. It played such an important role in Cordelia's life, even now as a blind person. There was no other sense so comforting for Cordelia. A moment called Cordelia's attention, the past coming forward through the fog.

_Three things Cordelia had known about Misty before she had sight: her hands were incredibly soft, but had enough sparse callouses to let her know that the Cajun had worked very hard in her life. She laughed from her belly, but there was a mischievous tone to her laugh that inspired a smile no matter what mood Cordelia was in. And Misty smelled like some undefined musk, sweet and alluring, and every time one of her shawls breezed past when Cordelia would pass the woman in the hall, the scent would linger on in Cordelia's mind; she would be fixated for such a long time afterward on the scent of her._

_It was inappropriate response to a student, but then again Misty and Cordelia were not so far off in age that it was unthinkable. The only thing that surprised Cordelia was that Misty seemed not to know how lovely she really seemed even when one was blind. Compliments were pushed aside, scoffed or nervously laughed at. She'd be heard chewing on something the moment Cordelia offered any kind of praise, that warm throaty laugh accompanying some inane, dismissive response. _

_So when Cordelia saw Misty for the first time with her own two eyes (so to speak) it was indescribable. Cordelia was, in fact, so moved by Misty's general countenance that she had to correct herself often when she'd catch herself staring at Misty in odd, simple moments. She'd stand just a moment longer in the doorway when she bid the blonde goodnight, eyes matching Misty's kind gaze and wishing she had been gifted with Misty's presence much earlier in life._

_Late one night, after they emerged from the greenhouse, chattering idly about different ingredients, Cordelia was walking just behind Misty when the Cajun turned on her heel and started walking backwards, still speaking animatedly and smiling, and the sound of her voice faded. It was just the sight of her, and Cordelia thought that she'd never really understood poetry until she met Misty. Misty was poetry personified, she was a sheet of music. Cordelia was so moved that she reached forward and grasped Misty's hand, clasping it in her own._

_"Don't ever let anyone tell you that you are anything but the sun and stars, Misty," she wasn't sure where the words came from, but nonetheless they spilled from Cordelia's mouth and left Misty blushing. "I know it's hard for you to fathom any kind of compliment, still, but I wish you could see yourself as I do."_

_And she'd left it at that, though she felt an ache swelling in her chest. Cordelia had held on to Misty's hand just a moment too long, but still, she let go delicately and reluctantly. _

_"Let's go inside, get some tea, shall we?"_

_Misty had not uttered a response, glittering eyes only lingering on Cordelia with an inquisitive, awe-struck look. Cordelia took the lead, heading inside before Misty and found herself both disappointed and grateful when Misty returned to speaking as she had been before affectionate words filled the air between them._

Drawn to the present by a worried-sounding Kyle, Cordelia was jarred by his voice.

"Uh - Cordelia? I was walking by and you sounded panicked."

"Get me Queenie, please, if you can wake her."

"Yes, ma'am."

###

The graveyard smelled a bit moldy, like algea sitting too long on top of stale water. That was the way in New Orleans, where the dead slept above-ground. Cordelia was lead by Queenie's hand, and with her free hand she would touch stones as they passed, mosoleums, until finally she felt a jolt of pain upon touching one.

"Here," she instructed, face contorted with worry. She clicked her teeth in frustration and impatience as she heard the clang of a shovel against stone. Kyle seemed to break ground, though, as clattering cement fell dangerously close to Cordelia's toes. "Help me," she bent down blindly, her hands clasping warm oak and metal grips, pulling with all her might and cursing heavy coffins.

Kyle and Queenie helped, and soon it was slipping free.

Cordelia could feel it, the tremor of anticipation as she fumbled for some kind of latch, something to free the lid, when she felt masculine hands gently moving hers aside and the sound of the coffin lid coming free was like a surge of anxiety. Would it be Misty? Was her vision right?

Queenie mumbled unpleasantly, "Damn, she looks bad."

"Is it her?" Cordelia was afraid to reach forward, afraid to touch a corpse that may not be Misty's.

"It is. You sure she can be saved?"

"You _have _to try. You've done it before. I need you to do it now. Please." Cordelia's voice broke just a little, and she felt a heavy hand gently nudge her aside. Beside her, Queenie seemed to be leaning into the casket.

And then Cordelia felt her heart stammer, stutter against her ribs and tears sprung to her eyes, hot and stinging.

Seconds later, the sound of a deep gasp caused Cordelia to move Queenie out of the way (making a note to apologize later for being rough), and she surged forward, hands blindly reaching into the casket.

Stiff, dry skin met her hands, and suddenly she was clasping Misty's fingers and hands, pulling the Cajun forward into her arms and buring her face against her hair. Despite being stuck in that casket for days, Misty still smelled like Misty, pleasant and earthy.

Misty quivered in her arms.

"Miss Cordelia?"

"You're safe now, we found you. I found you," Cordelia's voice seemed to shake and tremble as much as she was, her hands finding Misty's sides first, then her arms and eventually the slope of her neck and throat. Cordelia felt Misty's jaw working slightly as her thumb grazed just below. "Are you okay?"

"It was that damn Hollywood bitch," Misty spoke callously, covering Cordelia's hand with her own briefly before Cordelia felt her slipping from her grasp and standing. Cordelia stood, reaching an arm out to help Misty out of the casket. "I'm gonna kill her."

Maybe Madison was right. Maybe Misty was special - if only because, at that moment, she should have told Misty that killing Madison could not happen.

Yet she knew that if Misty went back home now and left Madison beheaded, she wouldn't have been nearly as angry or upset as she should be.

Tingles erupted over her skin as she felt Misty's hands at her arms and slowly, carefully, thumbs grazing the wounded flesh around her eyes.

"Jesus, Miss Cordelia," her voice was hushed between them, and Cordelia felt the warmth of Misty's face near her own as she examined the damage. "What the hell happened?"

Cordelia wanted to cry, but tears burned her eyes incredibly at the moment. "It was the only way," her voice quivered her her throat, soft enough to go unnoticed.

There was an awe-struck exhale, the gentlest of touches at her face. Tension was building in Cordelia's chest because she didn't need sight to know that Misty was staring at her intensely, sadly.

"You mustn't feel the need to take any blame. It was my decision. It was my choice. It was you or a pair of eyes that weren't even mine."

She expected Misty to say _something _but instead, she was engulfed in a warm pair of arms, fingers tangling in her hair and Misty's face buried against her neck. There were salt tears kissing her neck for a few moments, but she soothed Misty the best she could. Her fingers gripped tightly at Misty's waist before gently encouraging her to step back just a little.

Cordelia motioned in the general direction in which she heard impatient stirrings from Queenie and Kyle, "Come, let's get out of here, shall we?"

"I got a bitch to beat," Misty growled, her voice causing goosebumps to erupt as it passed near Cordelia's face.

Cordelia meant to lead herself out of the cemetery, but instead she felt an insistent, familiar hand dragging her quickly from the premises, Misty's ringed fingers holding fast to her own.


	2. uncertainty

**Synopsis:** Misty is back and ready to get revenge on the one who tried to kill her. Once the dust settles, both Misty and Cordelia struggle with guilt for different reasons while they grow closer.

**Author's Note:** So, I'm still alive. Hello theeere! I apologize for my lengthy absence from writing. Sometime last year I lost my internet, and only just now have I gotten a new laptop and gotten the internet back (within about the last four to six months I'd say). And all kinds of stuff has happened and I was just emotionally in a hole. Coming out of it, though, day by day. Regardless, here's the next chapter of this lovely fic. Hopefully it's as wonderful as you all desire it to be. As I had set it before, It was supposed to be about 10 chapters of about 2k per chapter, but we'll see how that goes and how the story develops on its own. So for now it's still undecided.

**uncertainty**

"_But I have my life, I'm living it. It's twisted, exhausting, uncertain, and full of guilt, but nonetheless, there's something there." __ banana yoshimoto_

Misty slammed the door open so hard that a screw fell loose from the hinges. In the darkness Cordelia experienced, the sound was jarring and the moment it happened, Misty's fingers slipped from her own. Even from her perspective, she could feel the fury coming off Misty in ripples. It gave her goosebumps of questionable morality.

The moments that followed were loud and a little confusing, but outwardly Cordelia tried to keep her composure. Whatever Misty did to Madison – and it sounded violent, for the record – the little starlet deserved it. After all, it wasn't just some blow to the head. Madison had _intended _to kill Misty to take her place as what she percieved to be the Supreme. All these vicious in-fights were a detriment to the Coven and if Cordelia let her personal feelings get in the way, she'd have cast out anyone who were to harm a fellow witch.

_ You know, in the olden days, if a sister betrayed her coven … they'd kill her._

"Thought you could just kill me 'n get away with it, like I was just some stupid swamp rat to be discarded?" Misty raged, and Cordelia heard tripping noises. The floor shook with a sudden thud and Madison was cursing at Misty, laughing at her in both fear and rage. Misty radiated calm in her voice, even as it drifted toward Cordelia. "All right, Miss Cordelia?"

"I'm fine," Cordelia responded cooly. She knew that Misty was asking for approval, permission, or – pun intended – a blind eye. "Just don't kill her," the afterthought came out a little less loudly. After all, she didn't want to be responsible for the death of another girl. She just wanted Madison to learn her lesson.

Once Misty's rage seemed soothed and Madison lay cowering and whimpering on the floor, Cordelia tapped her cane gently along until she caught scent of Misty's perfume, felt the tip of her shawl with her fingertips before indicating that Misty should step behind her. Cordelia felt delicately with her cane, felt Madison's quivering body.

"Fucking psycho! Trailer trash!" Madison raged. "And you, you sick bitch!" A hand grabbed at Cordelia's wrist and gripped hard. Cordelia steeled herself and jerked her wrist away.

"Now you listen to me, Madison Montgomery, you are spoiled. You are idiotic to think you could get away with _murder _in this coven like my loathsome mother. You're undeserving of any title much _less _the Supreme. If you ever lay hands on Misty or any other member of this coven I will personally see to it that we dig up some very _old _traditions," Cordelia's fingers tangled in the collar of Madison's shirt and she tugged her close, blind eyes intimidatingly close to Madison's. The coven's teacher made a note to ask Misty later if Madison looked afraid when she was giving this little speech. "Do you understand me?" Each word was articulated and spat out intentionally.

An answer Cordelia took for a yes, Madison loosed herself from Cordelia's grasp and seemed – by sound – to limp away. Cordelia felt fingers at her elbow and she stood shakily. Misty's warmth was right beside her and she could feel that gaze instinctively.

"That goes for anyone else. I will not have my mother's legacy of bloodshed passed on. Now please -" exhaustion hit Cordelia fast, along with a little bit of nausea, "let's all go to bed. There's been far too much excitement for one day."

Cordelia didn't care if Madison ran away licking her wounds and never returned. All she cared about was that she had, with the help of others, managed to find Misty and was able to return her to the fold. She was grateful that Misty was alive and safe, and wanted to share this feeling but could only lean on the familiar strength. She felt a wisp of hair pass by her ear and a hand squeeze the back of her neck gently, the cold kiss of many-ringed fingers causing gooseflesh to arise.

"Okay there, Miss Cordelia?" Misty still sounded keyed up, out of breath, but her voice was as soft as the retreating footsteps.

"Are we alone?" Cordelia asked after just a moment, picking her cane up from beside her and realizing that Misty intended for her not to need the thing.

Silence, what felt like maybe a nod, and then a correction, "Sorry – not used to... you know."

"Me either. Even though I've been blind once it's apparently _not _easier the second time," a dark, dry humoured smile crossed Cordelia's expression.

"We're alone."

"I'm exhausted," Cordelia confessed. "Will you help me upstairs?" She didn't want the others to see or hear her vulnerability or her need to be assisted. "Just – you know, help me into my room. I feel a little dizzy."

Misty's hand slipped around Cordelia's back and rested on her waist, gently guiding with delicate presses of fingertips. Slowly and in mutual silence, they made their way up the seemingly long stairwell and down the hallway. Nearby, the older woman could hear everyone in different stages of getting ready for bed – lights flicking off, sheets being turned down.

Leaning perhaps just a little more than she needed to, Cordelia squeezed the arm just beside her and sighed heavily as she felt herself guided toward the solid surface of her bed. "Misty, I'm so sorry I didn't find you sooner."

Guilt was searing just at the bottom of Cordelia's throat. She covered her face in her hands, fingertips intentionally avoiding the wounded area. Shoulders slacked forward and she assumed Misty was still a distance away when gentle hands soothed over the back of her shoulders and she found herself resting her head against Misty's stomach, hands sifting through Cordelia's hair.

"You found me, Miss Cordelia. No one else would've tried," the Cajun's gentle twang was familiar and lovely in a poetic way. Cordelia slipped her arms upward, grasping at the slope of Misty's back.

"I'm so glad you're here now," Cordelia admitted. Regardless of anything else, she couldn't deny how absolutely overjoyed she was to be in this moment with Misty. Guilt may have been threatening her emotions, but it couldn't beat the burgeoning relief in her gut.

"I don't really wanna leave," Misty mumbled a bit as she pulled away. "I feel like it's all my fault that you can't see now," delicate fingers touched just below Cordelia's cheekbones.

"You can go take a hot bath if you like. Use mine. Then you need some sleep. Contrary to popular thought it seems like death might take a toll on the body. Or rather the coming back to life."

Misty's warm laugh seemed in agreement. Cordelia was just about to stand and grab some nightclothes when she felt a palm press at the top of her head. "Thank you," was all Misty murmured before pressing her mouth delicately to that same spot atop Cordelia's head. A gentle petting and then she was gone, presumably to bathe.

Cordelia tried to distract herself by changing quickly and taking a strong pain pill, crawling under her sheets and realizing they seemed much softer and warmer when she was tired and pained. The sound of running water not far away soothed Cordelia into a deep, blackened slumber.

"_Did you ever wanna do somethin' different with your life, Miss Cordelia?" Misty sipped at the sweet tea in her glass and crouched forward in her seat, eyes studying Cordelia's face. "Like – I know the coven has always been like your inheritance but didja ever just – wanna go do somethin' else?"_

"_I think I would've liked to own a flower shop," Cordelia replied after a little bit of thought, her eyes flickering into a daydream momentarily before finding an intense pair of eyes looking at her. She cleared her throat a little and tapped her fingers on her own glass. "Maybe taught some horticulture classes or something on the side."_

_Misty laughed as she sat her drink down. "So basically you'd wanna do the same thing you do now, but without the magic?"_

_Cordelia gave a wry grin, "Well we can't all be so interesting, Misty."_

"_Nah, you're more than interestin'. You're – like a beam of light. Like sunlight. Flowers need sun to grow and you're the thing they need," Misty leaned back on her arms, booted feet tapping on the wooden floor. They were both lounging on the porch, Misty sitting on the actual floorboards while Cordelia swung gently back and forth on the porch swing. _

"_You're like a wildflower," Cordelia's eyes dropped to her glass once more and she offered a smile. The sun, Cordelia thought, was hardly worthy of the wildflowers. That's why it shone so brightly. It wanted to be deserving of the sight. _

_Misty only laughed and kicked her foot forward, tapping Cordelia's swinging foot in passing. "Don't be silly. I'm a girl who plays in the mud and asks the plants to grow. You're the one who makes it happen."_

Cordelia stirred delicately in her bed and nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt warmth next to her. She kept blinking, expecting to see any moment and then her brain reminded her that she was still blind. She scooted against her headboard and felt around the figure, trying to figure out who it was when she heard a telltale jingle of bracelets and fingers brushed away her touch.

What had Misty been doing in her bed?

A sleepy yawn emerged, "It's too early to be awake yet, Cordelia, go back to sleep."

"Misty, this is highly -"

"Kyle's sleepin' in my bed and besides, I wanted to make sure you didn't – I don't know, fall out of bed or somethin'." Misty gave a playful nudge to Cordelia and hands tugged Cordelia back under the covers. Misty was patting the comforter back tightly against Cordelia before she seemed to shift on the mattress. "Go to sleep."

"I have to make breakfast," Cordelia tried to excuse, but the warmth of the bed and the feel of Misty's slow breathing beside her was too alluring. The older woman dropped her head to her pillow. She wished she could see, but to soothe the pain such desire wraught, she reached nearby and found a lock of Misty's hair splayed beside her. She toyed with it gently, attempting to calm herself.

"Sorry if I scared ya," Misty mumbled sleepily.

Truth be told, she didn't mind at all if Misty was in her bed. She just didn't expect it. She wanted to latch on to the poor girl and never let her go, but that just wasn't acceptable behavior for a superior.

"Misty?"

"Mm?"

Cordelia felt at a loss for words. Emotions bubbled up in her throat and she merely sighed. She wanted some way to explain that she had saved Misty not only for Misty's sake and the coven's sake but also because she seemed to need Misty around. The sun would burn forever but did it have purpose without life to nourish? All these thoughts seemed too heavy on her tongue, particularly for what seemed to be an early morning.

Misty shifted beside her and the mattress seemed to shift with the weight. Blankets feathered along Cordelia's skin and she felt a tentative hand brush through her hair, rest delicately on the side of her neck. Sleepily, Misty rested her forehead against Cordelia's, both their heads laying on the same pillow. Emotion again swelled in Cordelia's chest and she felt almost as nervous as someone cuddling for the first time. That adolescent nervousness trembled along Cordelia's skin.

"You 'n me, we're special." Misty mumbled sleepily and nestled closer.

Cordelia agreed wholeheartedly. She trailed her fingers along Misty's arm and gripped hard, her way of responding when the woman in front of her had so easily stolen her ability to articulate her feelings.

Breakfast was ready by the time Cordelia woke up, and Misty was gone. The scent of bacon and eggs and potentially warm syrup caught Cordelia's attention the lower she descended on the stairs, carefully tapping her way down each step, sunglasses on to hide her embarassing wounds.

"Finally!" Misty called from the kitchen.

"Yeah, you'd think _she _was the one who performed the most amazing feat of magic we know," Queenie spoke a little sarcastically but followed it with a delicate shoulder-squeeze as Cordelia passed and made her way to the low-sitting table in the corner.

"You were spectacular, Queenie," Cordelia praised with a smile. "Honestly. Bringing someone back – once they've been gone for so long, it's no easy task."

Queenie gave a noise of agreement, "So I get extra bacon," a slap followed by Kyle grumbling and mumbling _ow, _"gimme, squirt."

Cordelia laughed a bit, "Let's not fight over scraps."

"Here," Misty's voice was suddenly near and the witch had slid into the seat beside Cordelia, the wooden bench along the wall just large enough for both of them. "I made you a plate."

Eating when you were blind was kind of difficult and an act of overcoming anxiety. Cordelia felt helpless and suddenly nervous. She had done it the first time around, she had been relatively independent, but it did not mean that she wasn't anxious the whole time. "Thank you, Misty," Cordelia's voice was soft and sincere. She expected Misty to stay seated with her, a pang of disappointment when she seemed to rise and leave.

Once Cordelia started to dig into breakfast despite her nerves over potential embarassment, she felt Misty's warmth beside her again. The _clang _of a fork on Misty's plate and some hungry eating beside her indicated Misty was just eating.

"Are you just now eating?"

"Didn't wanna start without you," Misty replied simply. "Drink your tea, it's gonna get cold, and don't be so damn surprised at how nice I'm bein'. Haven't I always?"

Yes, but it was different now. Something about it was different. Cordelia followed instruction and sipped at her tea, her hand resting beneath the table once she had finished; intentionally, she rested her hand near Misty's thigh, pinkie daring to graze the warmth of Misty's leg. Beside her, the Cajun seemed to respond by scooting closer and leaning her shoulder against Cordelia.

"I didn't mean to gape," Cordelia finished lamely, giving an apologetic smile. "I just don't think I've ever had any of you wait to eat until I woke up."

"They didn't," Misty corrected, then laughed as a few objections erupted around the kitchen.

"Teacher's pet," Queenie teased. "I got the extra bacon though, so obviously I win."

"My bacon," Kyle objected, sounding sore about it.

Cordelia's smile grew as she cleared her plate, shaking her head at the banter between her students. She tried not to focus _too _much on the warm body sitting so closely beside her, but it was hard to do. Particularly remembering how it felt to be so close in the bed earlier, so wonderfully close and intimate without any sexual or romantic implication. To merely enjoy the bond she shared with Misty, to feel it grow as organically as any of her plants, it gave Cordelia immense pleasure.

For now, it would be enough to know that Misty, too, thought that they were special together somehow. Breakfast was cleared away and they did the dishes together, enjoying one another's company as they had before Misty had disappeared, before Cordelia was again blinded.

"_I'm pretty sure you're my first real friend," Misty spoke thoughtfully from across the greenhouse. "Maybe that's why seein' Hank come in like that upset me so much. It's like – I could feel how upset you were and I wanted to just -" she balled up a fist and swung lamely beside herself. A plant teetered but she caught it and blushed. "You know what I mean."_

_Cordelia laughed, nodding. "I appreciate the thought," she returned to her work table and began chopping up roots carefully. "I do. It's just – having you there was enough. I knew he wouldn't hurt me if you were there, if there was a witness. And it felt nice knowing there was someone beside me who really cared about me."_

"_I really do, Miss Cordelia. More'n – well, I think I ever have about anyone."_

"_It's just that sometimes we make terrible choices and we can only do our best to deal with the consequences of them. Even if we're uncertain of the choice we've made, we have to aim for certainty. You understand? I finally made a solid, certain commitment when I filed for divorce. I achieved certainty for once and I am happy to live with the consequences of that. That meant letting him yell and stomp all he wanted without giving in," Cordelia explained calmly, glanced up at the backlit figure Misty presented. A knife in her ringed fingers, she was watching Cordelia intensely, her eyes lingering. It made Cordelia's heart jump in her throat. "And I felt certain of you. Of your presence and being safe in that presence."_

_Misty didn't seem to have words to respond, but a slow, surprised smile lit up her expression. Her brows softened and she seemed to want to do or say something to let Cordelia know how that made her feel. She bit her bottom lip somewhat hard and blushed, turning her back to Cordelia. "You can always count on me, Miss Cordelia."_

"We need to think of magical fortifications. Something to bar the witch hunters and anyone else who might come to harm us," Cordelia had everyone gathered in the living room, and she was pacing nervously. "This is our next task. I don't know what we are capable of as a group but I can think of no better effort than to arm and protect ourselves. I think even Kyle may have something to offer despite his lack of magical ability."

And so, together with her little coven, she set them on their first real task together: protect each other and themselves with every ounce of magical ability they had. Get ready and arm themselves for war.


End file.
